


peckish

by sweetgoodgraciousangel



Series: Auguswald Vampire AU [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, as augustine is to the idea of biting oswald, i swear oswald is as equally turned on to the idea of being bitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetgoodgraciousangel/pseuds/sweetgoodgraciousangel
Summary: It's some hours late into the night, and Augustine wants a snack.





	peckish

Oswald was almost -  _ almost  _ \- asleep when he felt the springs at the end of the bed creak under the pressure upon the addition of new weight. 

 

It was past midnight, and Augustine was typing away at something on his laptop, while Oswald had flipped on a movie to watch on the tiny TV screen they’d managed to buy for white noise for their room at nights. His glasses are off and laying on the table between their two beds, making everything blurry when he opened his eyes to examine the sudden disturbance of his sleep. He noticed that the rapid typing from Augustine’s laptop had stopped, and the weight moved upward, crawling on hands and knees.

 

“It’s…” Oswald squinted at the blurry numbers on the digital clock as Augustine finally stopped, nearly sitting on top of Oswald’s stomach. “...Three in the morning. What do you want?” He grumbled out sleepily. Augustine chuckled.

 

“That says two thirty-five, actually.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Augustine leaned forward, resting his chin on Oswald’s chest. After having known Augustine’s little secret for a while, he knew what that face meant. Oh, here he goes…

 

“I’m hungry. Do you mind?”

 

“Kind of, since I’m half asleep.”

 

Augustine licked his lips, pouting. Oswald stared him down, refusing to budge at first, but dammit, he couldn’t just let the poor guy starve. Besides, he doesn’t honestly really care and sometimes just teases Augustine by telling him no when he wants a snack. 

 

Augustine, now that he’s revealed his true nature, had also confessed his semi-poor eating habits one of the first few nights after Oswald found out. He was chowing down on some tasty cheap take-out food, Augustine watching in amusement as Oswald tried to uphold a stubborn attitude, but was obviously failing.

 

He only ate once a week, and always erased the person’s memory of it afterward. Always.

 

(“Whoa, you can… you can do that?” Oswald asked in amazement. With a sly smile, Augustine nodded.

 

“Yep. It’s not easy, but I can do it.”

 

“I’ve got a few embarrassing memories I’d like to forget, could you - “

 

“Nope. Any memory being erased has to have occurred minutes before. Anything beyond at least a day is out of my hand.”

 

“...And now, it’s a lot less impressive.”)

 

Apparently he should be eating a lot more, but he claimed he could get a substantial amount from one person, so its enough to satiate him. Sometimes, though, he can get peckish.

 

“...Fine.” Oswald said, going to sit up, but Augustine pressed a hand against his chest.

 

“Don’t. I can do it from here.”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes, then laid back against his pillow. The bastard better hope none of the blood gets on anything that he owns yet again. Oswald swears to all that is good, if he has to buy another set of sheets, he’s going to pull the money directly out of Augustine’s pocket. He’s pretty sure the cashiers at the check out of that little store down the street are beginning to think he must have a lot of partners that come over in the middle of the night if he’s been constantly ruining them.

 

Augustine shuffled forward, just a little more. His body was nearly flush against Oswald’s at this angle, and he turned his head away, trying to hide the heat that was creeping onto his cheeks. God, something about this all excited him. Augustine doesn’t ask to bite Oswald often, only when the hunger begins to be slightly painful and he doesn’t feel like going out, but when he does, it sends a rather thrilling chill down his spine. It makes him impatient.

 

Augustine’s lips brushed against the skin of Oswald’s neck, feeling the pulse there. Oswald closed his eyes, trying to hide the tremor that goes through his shoulders when Augustine very gently scrapes his fangs against the skin. 

 

He squeezes Oswald’s wrist with one hand (he always does that, and Oswald doesn’t get why), and then bites down.

 

There’s the unpleasant feeling of something sharp tearing through his skin, the sound of Augustine slurping up what immediately dribbles out, and then the quiet sounds of Augustine drinking. It’s kind of weird, if he’s honest. It hurts, but not to the point where it’s unbearable. Augustine tried to explain to him at one point his saliva does play into that just a little, but mainly for afterward when he’s getting the wound to effectively stop bleeding. 

 

It only hurts a lot when he’s biting down too aggressively, to which Augustine also explained that sometimes he gets lost in the moment. 

 

(“You know, I’ve drank from plenty of people, but when I drink from you…”

 

Augustine trailed off. A hint of a fang was poking outside his lip when he nervously chewed on it with his front teeth. Oswald paused, curious. He never truly got the answer to the question he asked one time if he’d tasted adequately. He knows it’s a dumb thing to want to know, but maybe blood tasted differently if it came from different people. 

 

“It’s… it’s comforting. Really comforting. It feels good too.”

 

“So I’m like homemade comfort food?”

 

Augustine snickered. “Yeah, something like that. I’d hate to keep drinking from you though. I don’t want to make it seem like you’re just food to me.”

 

Oswald shook his head. This guy and the hang-ups he found himself in were the quirkiest Oswald had ever encountered in his life.

 

“You can do it anytime you want, just as long as you buy me dinner afterward, you know.”

 

Augustine met his eyes then, and then he laughed loudly, openly. The color on his face was lovely to see, and Oswald’s heart pounded with glee. He was practically bursting at the seams with happiness.)

 

Augustine hummed lightly, so blatantly happy, and Oswald raised a hand to rest on his back. This felt good too. Maybe it’s just Oswald, but feeding sessions felt more intimate and gentle unlike the way the media nowadays like to portray it as (not like any of the big time producers knew what it was really like being a vampire since it’s all urban legends to the world, but at least now Oswald had something to snicker at with Augustine when they watched cheesy vampire flicks together). Gruesome, rough, always unpleasant for the person being bitten. It was nothing like that. There’s the pinch of pain, and once you got past the fact that someone was drinking blood from you like a water fountain, things were entirely pleasant. 

 

Oswald watched the numbers on the clock shift. He’s been so lost in his head, he honestly doesn’t know how long they’ve been like this. Augustine isn’t drinking desperately out of him, rather taking slow short sips before swallowing. He’s not ready for it to be over. He did mention feeding from Oswald specifically was comforting to him.

 

Huh. Just thinking about that conversation again made heat rise in his cheeks again.

 

Augustine, just afterward of that thought, pulled back. Red stained his lips and teeth, though didn’t hesitate to lean back in to lap at the wound and the blood still dripping out of it. He, as classily as he could, wiped his mouth with his forearm. He was panting softly, but still didn’t move away. He rested on top of Oswald, and his body went still. Oswald almost rolled his eyes.

 

“...Hey, if you’re going to sleep, you have a  _ bed _ .” He mentioned. The bite marks hurt, but bandaging those up could wait (they actually probably couldn’t but it  _ is  _ just the two of them and honestly, being a vampire doesn’t mean you’re that much more responsible).

 

“Comfortable.” Augustine mumbled out into the crook of Oswald’s neck. His breath was warm, brushing across his skin. “...Thank you, by the way.”

 

“Get enough to hold you over for a while?”

 

“Nah, I’m gonna bite back into you here in a second and drain you of all blood. You’ve lost, Oswald. You’re stuck in my trap.”

 

Oswald laughed, then playfully scruffed Augustine’s hair. He supposed there was no fighting it, but the least the asshole could do is get under the blankets with him and, you know, maybe not put all of his weight on Oswald’s chest. But he looked content as all hell right there, likely being lulled to sleep just by being close to him, so he let it be.

 

He closed his eyes, finding equal coziness in their position. He found himself asleep within the next minute.

 

(The next morning when they woke up, Oswald was extremely pleased to see Augustine was beginning to develop good manners. His messy eating habits hadn’t ruined his pillow cases like he though. He, unfortunately, couldn’t say the same for the shirt he was wearing though.)

**Author's Note:**

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End file.
